


He says his name is Satin

by ImhereImQuire



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImhereImQuire/pseuds/ImhereImQuire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyrion visits the wall. Satin is eager to get away from it, by whatever means neccessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He says his name is Satin

The boy’s name is Satin, or so he says. He claims that this is because of the way he feels on his inside, but when Tyrion asks, somewhat cynically, what he was called before anyone had a chance to find out the boy merely laughs. There's a purring edge to the sound, and the way that the shake of his head sets his dark curls tumbling makes up Tyrion’s mind for him. He has to have him. He’s too pretty to refuse, the fact he’s not a maid seeming strangely beside the point. He’s beautiful, and has a girlishness to him which makes Tyrion willing to overlook what’s in his leggings.

He looks like Shae, who looked like Tysha. Even at the wall he cannot escape big brown eyes and raven hair. Is this where whores go, he asks the boy, sounding both incredulous and weary and Satin looks bemused but seeks to answer the question as best he can. “Only the very unlucky ones, my lord”. There’s something mournful in his tone which only serves to make him more bewitching.

The boy’s name is Satin, and he’s half-starved young thing, slender as a reed, delicate as a girl, though there’s something hard in his eyes, and shrewd. He’s no green boy, and does not give of himself cheaply and the moment that he is certain of Tyrion’s desire what he wants in return becomes clear. He says that he’ll do anything, anything at all if it will get him away from the wall, and the way he says it he knows what that might involve and he isn’t afraid to face it. He says he just wants to be warm again. He says that he doesn’t remember what such a thing is like, not since he lost his place as steward to the lord commander, and gotten sent to Eastwatch.

There is nothing in this world which comes without cost; a lesson Tyrion’s father and miserable traitor brother have taught him that well, and he is not above claiming the reward that the boy promises in low, urgent whispers; somewhere between flirtation and utter desperation. He knows that the kindness will cost him dearly eventually. It always does, in the end. This time however he resolves not to be made a fool of, not to squander chivalry on those who already think him a monster and he claims his price well in advance.

Satin’s mouth does not disappoint, and it is a certainty that this is not the first time he has given a man suck, for there is not a trace of hesitation before his lips envelops his length, and he knows what to do once it’s in there. The skill he shows is unsurprising but still glorious, and it feels as though it’s been an age since he’s had such pleasure. Tyrion finds himself seeking something to break the other’s veneer as his hands tangled in the other’s hair, forcing his cock deeper. No matter how hard, or fast, or deep he works the boy’s mouth though he cannot break his calm, force him to reveal the revulsion he must surely be feeling. Even when the youth gags there is nothing on his face but a frantic desire to please him as he coughs briefly then quickly goes down again and when he realises that in the position that the boy is in he’s incapable of feeling anything but desperation Tyrion is suddenly deeply ashamed, and releases his grip, lightly smoothing out the other’s dark curls in place of keeping them in his fist.

Afterward, when the boy is wiping at his lips with the side of his hand with the delicacy of a highborn lady he cannot help but ask. “Aren’t you afraid I will neglect my part of our bargain now I’ve had my release?”. Tyrion has to wonder whether it is naivety or desperation which has pushed the boy to give up his wares upon the strength of a word.

“They say that Lannisters make good on their debts” Satin tells him with a shrug, then his expression softens slightly. “Besides… you have an honest face, my lord” he adds as he gets up from off his belly. Tyrion does not quite know how to react, and so he laughs bitterly. The boy looks a little wounded, but erects defenses of his own. “If you prove false then its not as though I’ve lost anything, not really” he adds more practically and the idea that neither being so dishonourably cheated nor giving suck to a man he must find repulsive means anything to the lad any longer strikes Tyrion as sad.

“It was hypothetical” he says, hoping to reassure the boy, but when all he gets from the other’s pretty face is confusion he sighs and shakes his head. Of course Satin wouldn't know the word, for the boy is not so educated as he tries to appear. “Curiosity, nothing more. I do not mean to go back on what’s been agreed. If you’re at the docks for the morning tide then there will be a set of new clothes for you, more brightly coloured than those.” He gestured to the black that the other wore meaningfully. “And your passage upon the ship will be paid, as agreed. Now go on, before you’re missed”.

The boy looks back over his shoulder before he leaves and his eyes are… thankful, hopeful. It makes them shine. “Won’t I be missed here?” he asks mischievously and Tyrion shakes his head. “Don’t push it, Satin” he chuckles. “Go on”. The lad flirts like the bawdiest of tavern wenches, but there remains a sweetness and a delicacy to him that one usually only sees in more innocent maids. He finds he likes it more than he should, the mixture more enchanting than either trait on its own.

“Of course, my lord…” Satin inclines his head respectfully, lowering his dark lashes before he turns to go, but he leaves a parting shot before he does. “But remember…. its not the feel of my throat that gives me my name, my lord. And it would be a long voyage indeed without company”. Tyrion finds himself liking the boy’s shrewdness somewhat less, but that does not mean he doesn’t respect it; it is the mark of a survivor.

 


End file.
